Nexus, Robert Boyczuk [best free ereader TXT] 📗

Early the next morning Sav returned to the monotonous job of inspecting the sites on the list. Since he would not be returning to the Ea, he and Hebuiza traded crafts. The VTOL was laid out like a glider, having a simple control yoke and pedals. Although the plane seemed lighter and flimsier than the dropship, its stability in the atmosphere was vastly superior. It didn’t lurch sickeningly, as the dropship had, in the least turbulence. But it had two major drawbacks: its was limited to relatively low altitudes and used an excessive amount of fuel. Its range, despite the reserve tank Sav carried, was limited to about a thousand kilometers. For longer flights he’d have to shuttle fuel canisters to advance points in two or three trips; then, when all was prepared, he’d leapfrog to his final destination. It was a tedious process, and for more remote destinations would require several days. But this suited Sav fine; in fact, he chose to visit the more remote sites first, wishing to spend as little time as possible around the facility-at least until the experiment had reached it grisly conclusion. No one volunteered information on how it was proceeding, and Sav didn’t ask. Yet, it seemed every waking moment he spent around the facility his thoughts would swing, like the needle of a compass, back to the people on the second sublevel. After each trip, guilt drove Sav straight to the eleventh sublevel where he’d jack into the data port they’d first discovered. Hebuiza had re-established the connections between the AIs in each chamber and the central net, which meant that it was now possible to query the status of any of the surviving interees through this node. And that is exactly what Sav would do, checking to make sure no one had been transferred or revived during his absence. He did this although he knew it might be pointless: if Hebuiza chose, he could alter the records to make it appear that none of the cells had been changed. Despite this knowledge, Sav repeated this check after each trip like a ritual lustration, experiencing a sense of relief each time identical numbers came up.

In the days that followed, Sav neither sought the company of the others nor avoided them. They seemed equally disposed to keep their distance. Hebuiza continued to eschew the other three, never venturing further than his lab when he was at the facility. Liis, whom Sav saw occasionally, rarely spoke to him, acknowledging him with a curt nod before passing by in the corridor. And Josua infrequently left his office on level zero-except one day when he emerged from the stasis facility with a bulky pack strapped to his back. Sav, who’d been sitting in the shadow of a tree, watched, unseen, as Josua disappeared into the surrounding forest, then returned an hour later, his pack empty. Minutes after reentering the facility, Josua came out the door again, his backpack refilled, and struck out into the forest in the same direction. Curious, Sav had followed, keeping his distance. A half hour hike along a snaking trail brought him to a glade that overlooked a shimmering blue lake. Here Josua laid his knapsack on the ground and knelt next to it. Whatever he was doing was obscured by the thigh-high grass. Sav concealed himself until Josua rose, the knapsack emptied and slung over his shoulder, and plodded back down the trail. Sav crept into the clearing; he nearly stumbled over a small heap of stones. Fixed onto the flat surface of a rock at the base of the pile was the identification plate pried from Shiranda’s cryostasis cell.

Sav had left the cairn as it was and hurried back to the facility, trying hard not to think about what Josua had been hauling out here, piece by piece, in his knapsack.

Day 53

Perspiration filmed his brow. For the last half hour Sav had been waiting just inside the doorway to his room, debating what to do. But now that she had returned, he stepped into the centre of the dimly-lit corridor, directly in her path. Liis walked towards him, her eyes fixed on the floor, moving like an automaton, oblivious to her surroundings. When she was only a meter away, Sav extended an arm to keep them from colliding, but at the last moment she lurched to a halt. She looked up with surprise, the scars on her face almost washed out in the half-light.

“Tell me,” Sav said. “I want to know.”

For days he’d fought the urge. But his curiosity-or was it guilt?-had grown despite his efforts to suppress it. Each night he listened to her pacing the hall, had found himself fantasizing about stopping her, demanding to know what was happening with the men and women whom they’d revived. But as soon as he’d thought this, he’d experience guilt so acute that he felt the sting of shame creeping into his cheeks. Then he’d turn on his side, and try to convince himself he wasn’t to blame.

Yet the urge kept returning: he had to know.

“Four dead. The last one yesterday.” Liis’ eyes were glassy.

Of course. What else could I have expected?

“Three men and a woman,” she continued, her voice flat, inflectionless. “Personnel from the facility. They were all interred shortly after they contracted the plague. The last man lasted nearly six days. This morning we began the dissection and internal examination of the woman. We took sections from her vital organs. Tomorrow, when the blood has drained from her head, we’ll remove the brain.”

“And…and the others?”

Liis looked away. “Hebuiza’s planning on reviving the next subject as soon as he finishes his analysis of the samples.”

“An uninfected subject?”

Liis nodded, a sharp movement of her head. “Inoperable brain tumour.” As she spoke Liis’ shoulders sagged. “Her name’s Cara,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “She’s seven years old.”

Liis crumpled. Sav stepped forward and caught her, circled his arms around the taller woman. She was surprisingly light for a woman of her height; underneath her coveralls Sav felt bone and sinew. Her head rested on his shoulder and she trembled violently. Sav felt a warmth seep through the material of his tee-shirt, dampen his collar bone. She sobbed quietly.

Gently, he stroked the back of her head, his hand smoothing her short hair. For a time they stood this way.

“Liis,” he said, “it’s not too late to leave.”

She went rigid. She pushed free of his embrace. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet with the shiny trails of her tears. But her expression was hardened. “No.”

“They won’t stop.” Anger strangled Sav’s voice. “After they kill the next two, there’ll be more. It’ll go on and on….”

“You’re wrong!” Tears rolled freely from Liis’ eyes now. “Josua promised me!”

Sav held out his hands. “Liis-”

But she had already spun away; in a stiff-legged gait, she staggered down the corridor and into her room. The door slammed shut behind her, the clang reverberating down the corridor.

Sav lowered his hands. She refuses to see. To accept the truth. She’d sooner let her guilt destroy her than admit what’s really happening.

Foolishly, he had hoped she’d see it as he did. But now he knew there was no one else to count on. If anything was to be done, he’d have to do it by himself-without help. Standing in the darkened corridor, buried beneath fourteen levels of the stasis facility, he understood, finally, how alone he was.

Day 65

Sav flew over dark, mottled clouds. Through occasional breaks he could see the tip of a long, scythe-shaped peninsula where Josua told him he would find the college. The institute had been primarily devoted to the study of theology, but Hebuiza had insisted Sav add it to his list. Research into high-energy particle physics had been a vigorous part of their quest for the Creator. Sav banked the VTOL over the narrow bay separating the peninsula from the mainland, and began his descent through the cloud cover. Precipitation gathered on the canopy, ran away in thin, agitated streams. Emerging from the belly of the clouds, rain lashed the craft, created a constant drumming on the fuselage. Gusts tugged at the VTOL, but Sav was used to her now and had to make only minor adjustments to the trim. He throttled back, dropped eighteen hundred meters in altitude. A few kilometers south he saw the hazy outline of the grey stone buildings.

After making three or four passes, Sav selected a quadrangle in the heart of the campus; the multi-story buildings surrounding it appeared intact. The VTOL pulled up and began its descent. It slipped into the courtyard and settled gently onto stone cobbles. Surprisingly, there was little evidence of damage here. None of the tall, mullioned windows had been broken, and only a few scrawny weeds had managed to struggle through cracks between the rain-slicked stones of the courtyard. Sav shut the engine off and grabbed his back pack. Climbing out of the craft was awkward because of the slippery surfaces. He got soaked when he slid on his backside from the wing. Rain pelted him; he turned his collar up, hunched his shoulders, and jogged to the wide portico that circled the building. Ducking under a stone arch, he stepped into the gloom. He shook the water from himself, then withdrew a flashlight from his backpack and snapped it on.

Spaced regularly along the inner side of the portico were carved wooden doors, two stone steps leading up to each one. Sav chose the nearest one, pulled on the thick wooden handle. The door swung open with only the slightest of resistance, the hinge creaking loudly. The odour of dust and decaying paper wafted from the entrance. Sav lifted his flashlight and stepped in.

To the right was a staircase and on the left, inside a second set of doors, was a bulletin board; papers fluttered and tore free in the breeze, until the inner door swung shut behind him. A faded banner across the top of the board read, ‘Current Symposia’. Across the hall, an open door showed rows of lab benches, mostly empty, but a few containing a clutter of dusty equipment. A pile of dirty rags, perhaps once a person, lay under the one closest to the door. Sav continued down the corridor, checking each room as he went, looking for anything that might be useful.

Four hours ticked by.

He finished with the last room on the top floor and descended a staircase, completing an entire circuit of the building, and bringing him back to the door through which he’d originally entered. For all his efforts, his backpack contained only half a dozen bundles of data cards he scavenged from the offices of the principle researchers. He decided to dump these in the back of the plane and begin searching the outer buildings. He pushed through the door and stepped into the portico; outside the rain had lightened, become a grey, misty drizzle. He passed through the stone arch and into the quadrangle-and froze.

Twenty meters away, under the cover of the wing of the VTOL, sat a hunched figure.

The man (at least Sav assumed it was a man since he could see a bald head) faced in the opposite direction, a dark blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his legs crossed. It was hard to be certain, but the man looked old, tufts of grey hair circling his shiny pate.

A survivor, Sav thought, incredulous. He lived through the plague.

He stared, his heart racing. The head pivoted, turning in a slow arc towards him. Without thinking, Sav stepped back into the shadow of the portico. But the man must have caught the movement in the corner of his eye, for he swung his head in Sav’s direction.